


Little Boys Aren't Meant to Have Battle Scars (But We Make the Best of It Anyway)

by pancake_surprise



Series: Raised by Wolves [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Godfather Remus Lupin, Godfather Sirius Black, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter was Raised by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Minor Angst, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, POV Remus Lupin, Raising Harry, Raising Harry Potter, Scars, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, Toddler Harry, Werewolf Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/pseuds/pancake_surprise
Summary: When you’ve got a four year old at home, there is a finite amount of time without hearing a laugh or crash come from somewhere within the house before you find yourself suspicious. In dark times no news is good news but in the case of a toddler, no news is finding your toilet filled to the brim with stuffed animals or realizing the scissors are missing and so is half of your godson’s hair.Moony discovers just how thoughtful the smallest of children can be.





	Little Boys Aren't Meant to Have Battle Scars (But We Make the Best of It Anyway)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostystarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/gifts).



> raising harry for my wonderful friend ghosty as she struggles not to burn down our college over all the heckin bullshit

When you’ve got a four year old at home, there is a finite amount of time without hearing a laugh or crash come from somewhere within the house before you find yourself suspicious. In dark times no news is good news but in the case of a toddler, no news is finding your toilet filled to the brim with stuffed animals or realizing the scissors are missing and so is half of your godson’s hair. And so after not hearing from or seeing Harry for the better part of half an hour, Remus found himself abandoning the book he’d be reading to search the house for their precocious four year old. It was nearing lunch time anyway after all. Certainly he had to be getting hungry.

“Harry?” No answer. Remus frowned. Harry almost always responded when they called him. Despite his proclivity for getting himself into messes, he really was a good boy. Remus pushed the door to Harry’s room open to find nothing but an unmade bed and socks all over the floor. Honestly, where had all these socks come from? Remus had no memory of buying half of them. He scooped the offending garments off the floor and into the hamper before continuing the search elsewhere. 

Down the hall Remus pushed open the door to Sirius’ and his own bedroom. Here too, the bed was unmade and unceremoniously littered with dog hair from when Sirius’ had spent the night curled up as Padfoot the evening before. Remus checked all the nooks and crannies he’d found Harry hiding in before: under the bed, between the wall and the dresser, beneath the desk but to no avail. Remus halfheartedly straightened the pillows and attempted to brush away the dog hair sticking to sheets but Padfoot’s fur was particularly stubborn and he’d left his wand downstairs. 

“Harry?” Remus called into the hallway. Nothing. There was really only one more room to check, the tiny alcove closet at the end of the hallway that they had converted into a room for all of their books. Harry rarely went into the room. He didn’t have much of a reason to, his own books were stored on a shelf next to his bed. All of the tomes in the dusty closet masquerading as a library were big, old, and dusty; and hardly of any interest to a four year old just learning how to read. 

When the tiny library too failed to produce any sign of Harry, the tiniest bit of fear seeped into his heart. There was hardly anywhere else in their cottage for Harry to hide and further, Harry had never tried to hide from them before, at least not for this long. Remus hurriedly searched each room again. He threw the blankets from Harry’s bed to the floor to be sure the boy wasn't bundled up at the bottom. He ripped open the doors to their dresser but found only a neatly folded stack of jumpers. Remus burst back into the sitting room, checking under and behind each table and chair as he went. 

Real panic was just about to set on when he heard a bit of rustling coming from the bathroom. Shaking his head, Remus gently knocked on the door. How could he have forgotten to check the bathroom? 

“Harry?” When Harry still didn't respond, Remus softly pushed the door open. Harry stood inside balanced precariously on the lid of the toilet. He had one hand on the sink to push himself up and, with the other, he was brushing back his hair to reveal the lightening shaped scar on his forehead. For a few seconds at a time, he would quickly look in the mirror before stopping to adjust his hold on the sink. Remus watched his routine several times through before saying “Harry? What are you doing?” Harry looked up, startled, and proceeded to fall from his place on the toilet. 

Harry screamed and yelled “Moony!” Luckily for Harry, Remus spent the better part of his school career learning to expertly react to everything Sirius and James threw at him and the reflexes were still in good shape to grab hold of him before he went tumbling over the edge. Remus scooped the toddler up into his arms and brought him back into the sitting room. He sat back into the overstuffed armchair he'd been occupying only ten minutes earlier and pushed Harry’s hair back from his eyes for the nth time that morning. 

“What were you doing little one?” Judging from what he'd seen in the bathroom, Remus had an idea of where this was going. He mentally braced himself. Every time he had imagined the conversation regarding Harry's scar, he had unequivocally included Sirius but here he was alone. 

Harry reached up to the lightening scar adorning his forehead and said “where did this come from?” It was no secret in the Lupin-Black household how Lily and James Potter died. Harry had always heard the tale of the bravery his parents had shown in the face of pure evil. But never before had they told him that the pure evil had attacked him, let alone left him permanently scarred. 

“Do you remember how Padfoot and I told you how your mum and dad died?” Harry nodded his head solemnly. 

“They were very brave,” he said with severity that shouldn't be found in a child so young. 

“Yes, the were very very brave,” Remus said pulling Harry a little tighter to his chest. “They loved you so much Harry. Padfoot and I told you before how a horrible man took them away from us.” Harry nodded again. “When the horrible man took them, he tried to take you.” Harry startled in Remus’ arms. “But it didn’t work,” Remus gently traced the scar across Harry’s forehead. “You beat the horrible man and your scar is proof of that. He couldn’t take you from us Harry.” Harry settled further into Remus’ arms and looked up into Remus’ face. For a moment, Remus almost thought Harry was going to fall asleep in his arms. He should have known better though, Harry was just thinking very very hard in a way only small children can. 

Harry reached up and traced the widest of the scars crisscrossing Remus’ face. For a moment, Remus thought his heart might have actually stopped. This was not a conversation he was ready to have today and certainly not without Sirius there should things go awry. But before he had time to properly panic, Harry spoke again. “Did a bad man try to take you too?” 

Unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory, Remus nodded. “When I was a very little boy. Only a little older than you,” he said as Harry continued to trace the marred skin on Remus’ face.

“But you beat him, right? Or you wouldn’t be here with me and Padfoot.” 

“Something like that,” said Remus. 

Harry dropped his hand and smiled. “So we’re the same!” he yelled throwing his hands around Remus’ neck. 

Until the first drop slid off his face onto his hand, Remus hadn’t even realized he was crying. But once he had, it was like he couldn’t stop. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s tiny frame and hugged the boy he couldn’t have loved more if he were his own son.

“That’s right Harry. We’re the same.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm addicted to raising harry AUs. no regrets.
> 
> tumblr: pancake-surprise


End file.
